The Feuding of the Heroes

I watched the feud of two great cities:
Prometheus stole the thunder, 
And Thalaba prophesied the war.
Prometheus blasphemes like Fucci
In the Circles of hell, being imprisoned
And bears his great grief with patience.

Thalaba, watching Prometheus steal
Jove's thunder, warned of great demise.
Thalaba prophesied blood, and the rain
Of putrid gore, and the oceans turned to blood.
Prometheus threw his lightning,
For he ruled the Earth and all within it.

The two, in great war, flit their powers
So the thunders roared with flashing lightning
And the oceans turned to blood,
While the Earth quaked violently.
The Poets in their prophetic powers
Spoke their curses one toward the other.

I, Thaddeus, watched, trembling in fear.
The war was great, the allies were gathering.
There was the Buck of Rylstone
Who knew the science of the feud, 
And the Mariner with his fleets,
Blown here and there, and everywhere.
Then, there was Prometheus and Ozymandias
Firing their bolts of lightning like the Queen of Hell.
The fleets of the Mariner, and the Stags rid
Into battle; Thalaba, thy wisdom!
Yet, Prometheus said of you
That thou brought shame;
Thou enlarged the fetters of free men!

I, the poor man in his sackloth
Witness the battles of great prophetic might.
The words of curses fire in their heated throws;
I am too frightened to read them.